Dead and Buried
by DeeCee1430
Summary: AU: Post Samaritan, Team Machine is back to what they do best: saving irrelevant numbers. The Team, especially John Reese, is in for a surprise when someone they thought dead and buried reappears. Among the personal turmoil, the city is a powder keg ready to explode as competing criminal elements vie for control.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Person of Interest or its characters.

A/N: This is an AU. This will diverge after The Crossing. I'm glossing over seasons 4 and 5. Samaritan existed and was defeated. Some of the characters from those seasons will make appearances but this story will not comply with those seasons.

* * *

Harold Finch startled awake when his phone began buzzing. He scanned the Library realizing he had dozed off again as rays of light peeped through the heavy curtains. Glancing down, he noticed Bear raise his head in an unasked question.

A few months ago Samaritan was defeated and things had gone back to normal for Team Machine, at least what was considered normal for them. The Machine was back up and running. John, while still masquerading part of the time as Detective Riley, had returned to saving irrelevant numbers with an occasional assist from Sameen Shaw. Unfortunately, Root had not survived their collision course with Samaritan but Finch was certain she'd be happy to know The Machine prevailed and the fight continued on.

"Yes, Mr. Reese," Finch responded as he perused the data on his computer screen.

"Good news, Finch. Emily Jenkins is safe and Patrick Kingston is in custody."

Harold lifted his teacup and winced when he took a sip of the now cold liquid. "Excellent, Mr. Reese. And how is Dr. Campbell? I see you took a detour after delivering Mr. Patrick into police custody. "

"She's fine, Harold. It's just coffee. Stop smirking." Harold looked around as if expecting John to be in the Library observing him. He almost didn't hear John's next question. "Where's Lionel? He hasn't answered his phone all day," John questioned.

"Mr. Reese, did you forget what was happening this week?" Harold waited as realization dawned on John. The line went silent.

* * *

Lionel Fusco felt a bead of sweat drip down his brow as he paced outside of the federal courtroom. He tugged at his collar and stared at the closed door waiting for his name to be called. He had prepped his testimony numerous times with the AUSA but today was the day. After three years of waiting, numerous starts and stops, Alonzo Quinn was on trial.

Fortunately, thanks to Finch, no one ever discovered how deeply Lionel was involved with HR or his movements the night Carter took Quinn into custody. He was only expected to testify to an exceedingly sanitized version of events. Primarily, he was there to establish chain of custody on the safe deposit box key Carter entrusted to him.

Carter. She was someone he tried not to think about. This should have been her shining moment and yet she sacrificed everything, including her life. She had been gone for three years, dead and buried. For months on end, his focus had been on the Samaritan disaster and staying alive. It had left little time to reflect on the past, but over the last few weeks, flashes came. He was back three years ago on that empty street corner outside of Carter's brownstone. With all the abilities of Finch's damned machine, how could they not have known in time to save her life?

Fusco continued to stare at the closed door, expectantly. He had kept this vigil, waiting for his testimony, for the last three days. Apparently, the witness before him had remained on the stand much longer than anticipated. Some mystery witness that was the key to the entire case against Quinn.

Lost in thought, Fusco hardly noticed Captain Moreno studying him worriedly. Lionel liked Moreno. She was a good cop—not unlike Carter. She cared about her people and he knew Moreno was there to lend moral support, even if he didn't want to talk. Lionel froze as the door opened and a marshal called his name. "Detective Lionel Fusco."

Taking a deep breath, Lionel steeled himself for the upcoming onslaught of questions. He closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself and propelled his feet forward. Two marshals exited the courtroom with a woman trailing behind them. Chocolate brown eyes met his. Her pink lips formed a silent "O" as she stared back. Fusco stumbled, tripping over his own feet as his eyes continued to follow the woman. Was he hallucinating? His voice caught in his throat and before he could make a sound, she was ushered around the corner.

Captain Moreno placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and pushed Fusco towards the door where the entire courtroom waited in silence. Lionel shook his head, as if the physical movement would dispel the confusion coursing through his mind. He had to focus. He was about to testify. The explanation of what he just saw would have to come later.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Person of Interest or its characters.

Joss Carter sat in the tan booth at Lyric's Diner absentmindedly moving her scrambled eggs around her plate. Her eyes darted from the scene outside of the window to the door as people entered and exited. She knew better than to expect anyone she knew to appear. Two days ago she had completed her testimony in the Alonzo Quinn trial and after three long years, she was discharged from WITSEC. For the first time in three years, no one was tailing her. No one was constantly monitoring her. She thought she'd be relieved but she never expected to feel so alone.

She continued to question why she chose to return to New York. During her absence, Taylor had finished high school and was now a sophomore in college, all the way across the country at Gonzaga. Before arriving to testify, she had demanded to see Taylor. She wanted to take no chances he would hear of her deception from anyone but her. The reunion had been strained—difficult for them both. He had grown up so much in the time she was gone. Her teenage son was now a man and she had missed it.

As for Paul, he'd left New York when Taylor had entered college. Things seemed to be looking up for him. He'd taken a job in Jacksonville with Veteran's Affairs. When he moved, he met Jaycee and they were planning to get married next spring.

That only left her mother. Her mother had died about a year into her exile and Joss hadn't even been able to attend the funeral. So what was it that drew her back to the Big Apple? She wasn't sure and part of her was regretting her decision. What was the old saying: you can never go back? Maybe Joss Carter, badass NYPD detective did die back in November 2013, on an empty street outside of the Third. Maybe she was dead and buried in a grave bearing her name.

Joss glanced up when the dark haired waitress stopped at her table, looking at her expectantly. "I'm sorry. What?" Joss questioned the older woman.

"Just wanted to know if you needed a refill, Hun," the waitress questioned, holding up the carafe of coffee.

"Sure," Joss replied as the woman filled the white mug sitting in front of her. As the woman walked away, Joss noticed there was no creamer on the table. She started to get up when a man slid into the booth across from her, setting the creamer in front of her coffee mug.

"So the rumors are true, Detective? You're looking good for being back from the dead." Joss rolled her eyes, ignoring the man as she stirred the creamer into her coffee.

"What brings you to Brooklyn, Marconi? Didn't take you for a coffee and eggs kind of guy?" Joss demanded as she glared at Elias's lieutenant. Holding up her hand to silence him, she continued, "Let me guess. Elias sends a warning. I better stay out of his way, blah, blah, blah."

"You're right to a certain extent, Detective. I am here to give you a warning. You've reappeared in the middle of a powder keg ready to blow. This town has a power vacuum now that HR is officially out of commission. Of course, my boss has been working to alleviate that issue, however, there is a new player in town." Marconi paused flagging the waitress for a cup of coffee. The two sat in a strangely companionable silence.

"Well, I don't see why you and your boss found it necessary to personally warn me and how did you even know? I've only been back a few days," Carter questioned, finally pushing her plate to the side and dropping her fork on the table.

"We stay informed, Detective. And that new player should concern you. It's Geno Zambrono. You remember him, right? You and your partner put a bullet in his uncle. I suspect that you'll be in a great deal of danger when he finds out you're alive. I also don't suspect you'll stay on the sidelines. That never was your style, Joss."

Joss placed some money on the table and began to stand, when Marconi placed his hand on her arm, stilling her progress. "Unless you want me to break your hand, I suggest you let me go." Marconi immediately removed his hand and held them up defensively.

"There's something else you should know." Joss arched an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. "If you're expecting your guardian angel to protect you, just know he's otherwise occupied these days." Joss froze, afraid Marconi was about to confirm John was dead. Marconi reached into his pocket and slid a photo towards her. Joss picked it up, studying it. The photo was clearly John and he was kissing a redheaded woman outside a restaurant. Marconi stood and pushed a slip of paper at a silent Joss. "You know how to reach me, if you need me Detective. I wouldn't suggest going it alone. You'll find the city has changed since you left."

* * *

"John, are you ok?" Iris Campbell asked as she reached to brush his cheek.

"What?" John asked as he refocused his attention to the redheaded psychiatrist. He studied her furrowed brow. She was worried.

"You seem a million miles away. Is something wrong?" she pressed as she let her hand drop to her side.

John gave her a halfhearted smile in an attempt to ease her mind. "I'm just worried about Fusco. He's called in the last couple of days. The Quinn trial has everyone on edge."

"I've heard. Do you want to talk? I can be a few minutes late for my next appointment." Iris reached out her gloved hand and squeezed his.

John shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I should probably get back to the precinct. With Fusco out, the work is piling on."

"You never have told me how you were affected by the HR takedown, John. It seems like it touched every officer in the department in some way. You sure you don't want to talk?" Iris reached for the door handle to her office building.

John placed his hand over hers, giving it a tight squeeze as he held the door for her. "I'm ok. I'll let you know if its something I need to talk about. Remember, Doctor, I'm not your patient anymore."

"How could I forget?" she said with a smile as she leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Call me if you need me."

"Of course. See you soon." Iris stood at the door for a moment and watched him walk down the street. Even after months of coffee and lunch dates, Iris Campbell was no closer to unraveling the mystery of John Riley. He had slowly confided in her somewhat about his military service and his lost love, Jessica. He never would, however, talk about the HR takedown. She knew he wasn't directly involved but she expected he would have some kind of story. It seemed everyone who'd been in the department did, and yet that topic was off limits.

Iris's thoughts were interrupted when the elevator dinged, signaling her arrival at her office. She smiled at her receptionist and stopped in front of her patient who was still seated, perusing a magazine. "I was so glad to hear you called. I expected to hear from you sooner after your testimony. How are you doing Jocelyn?"

Carter stood and appraised the department shrink. When she had returned to the city, she was told she'd have a mandated psych evaluation before returning to the force. She'd met with Dr. Campbell roughly three times and found the woman to be a good listener. Although Carter had nerves of steel, it had helped having someone to talk to prior to testifying against Quinn. Before Joss could answer, she froze, staring at a jade and gold bracelet hanging from the doctor's wrist. She had seen that bracelet before. It was dangling off the wrist of John's mystery woman.

Joss took a deep breath, trying to calm her pounding heart. "I actually didn't come to talk. Do you have my psych eval done? I'm anxious to get back to work."

"Oh." Iris said surprised at Detective Carter's sudden coldness. "Sure. It looks good. I can drop it by Captain Moreno's office in the morning. Or does it need to go to your captain at the Third?"

"No. It needs to go to Moreno. Hopefully I won't be at the Third for long. I should be back to the Task Force in the next couple of weeks. Thank you, Doctor." Joss turned to leave when Iris touched the sleeve of her coat.

"I'm here if you need anything, Jocelyn. It can be a difficult adjustment. If you ever need someone to talk to."

"I'll be fine, Doctor. Thanks." Joss pulled her coat tighter around herself as she stepped into the drenching rain. She would be fine. Joss Carter was always fine.

* * *

After spotting Carter in the halls of the federal courthouse, Fusco had called in sick the last two days. He wasn't answering calls from Reese or Finch. When he went for a walk through Central Park, he saw Shaw tailing him and yet she didn't approach. He didn't know what to do. The morning following his testimony, Quinn had changed his plea to guilty in exchange for a parole date before he died. Fusco had waited for Carter to surface but she never called. He had been certain she'd reach out. He was her partner, after all and the one she would be able to readily contact. He heard nothing.

Fusco seated himself on a bench, ignoring the rain that began to pelt him. He hardly noticed as the cold drops of water permeated his overcoat. Involuntarily he shuddered, no closer to the answers he sought.

His loyalties were divided. Carter was his partner and always would be, and yet after everything over the past three years, John was no longer the bane of his existence. He was a friend. Lionel figured Carter had her reasons for staying away, and he wasn't looking forward to blowing up John's semblance of normalcy. He hated not having all of the facts, and knowing he couldn't dig them up on his own. He determined fairly immediately that Carter must have been in WITSEC, but that's where his information ended. He couldn't ask Finch because that would tip off John. He couldn't go to the brass because he doubted they'd be forthcoming. So Lionel Fusco waited. He waited for the next shoe to drop. He waited for the past to rear its head—not its ugly head but the pretty head of Joss Carter.

Fusco stood from the bench and wiped the water dripping from his nose with his sleeve. He walked past Sam Shaw and stopped. "You coming?" he asked. "I'm buying." Shaw followed Fusco, completely dry under her black umbrella as the rain continued to soak the detective.

"You know I never turn down drinks when you're buying unless you're going to cry in your beer. I'm not signing up for that no matter how worried Finch is."

Fusco rolled his eyes. "No crying in my beer. Got it. Will plying you with alcohol get you to stop stalking me?"

"That depends, Lionel. You going to spill your guts?" Shaw asked as she followed Fusco into the warmth of O'Malley's pub.

A/N: Thank you so much for the kind reviews on this story and the warm welcome back to this fandom. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. I have gotten a few inquiries about my story, Crisscrossing, that was abandoned quite some time ago. I am hoping to eventually finish it. This new story is a chance to write for these characters again and hopefully generate some inspiration to finish that story.


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